


Learning To Fly

by anastiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel Drives, Coda, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Road Trips, Season 9, Song fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-05
Updated: 2014-06-05
Packaged: 2018-02-03 12:16:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1744289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anastiel/pseuds/anastiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel drives and thinks about life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Learning To Fly

**Author's Note:**

> Song is, "Learning to Fly," by Tom Petty. This takes place between 9x11(First Born) and 9x14(Captives).

_“Well some say life will beat you down,_

_break your heart, steal your crown._

_So I've started out for God knows where,_

_I guess I'll know when I get there_

_I'm learning to fly, but I ain’t go wings,_

_coming down is the hardest thing.”_

 After leaving the bunker, Castiel heads west. He drives north out of Kansas, meeting the I-80 interstate a little east of Kearney, Nebraska. The sun is just dipping below the horizon as he merges onto the nearly deserted highway. There are a few freight trucks zooming by him and an occasional passenger car, but other than those few drivers, the roads are relatively empty. Castiel rolls down the windows of his car. The wind rushes in, cool and crisp. It smells like freshly cut grass and summer. Though his human senses are dwindling due to his acquired grace, the air feels refreshing against his skin. A smile graces his face and he twists the volume knob on his stereo, blasting new age hip-hop music. The bass rattles his car and his seat vibrates beneath him, he taps his hands against the steering wheel in time with the music. Flat land stretches out in front of him, devoid of trees and seemingly endless. He drives.

It’s funny, he thinks. For the first time in his existence, Castiel feels _free_. This car, though stolen; is _his_. He wants to take care of her, keep her clean and running smoothly, make sure that she always has gas. She is his baby. Castiel doesn’t know why this car feels like a “she,” but she does. He feels limitless driving her, his hands firmly gripping the wheel, foot pressed lightly on the gas. He could go anywhere, drive across the country all the way to the ocean; park her rubber tires on the gritty sand and watch the sky explode into color when it fades behind the crashing blue waves.  He could go to the desert in the south, to a sand dune and watch as the merciless wind whipped up sand in small tornadoes and covered her golden coat, making the shiny paint dull. He could drive her to the north, where it rains practically all year around. Drive to the rainforest in a torrential downpour, get out of the car and stand in the rain. Let the water from the heavens soak into his clothes and wet his hair, dripping down his face and cheeks. The rain would make loud hollow splats when it hits the roof of his car, running down the windows and doors in rivulets, washing off the dirt and grime, replacing it with shine.

He can do anything he wants, he can go anywhere.

Castiel should go search for Metatron and technically, he is. But that doesn’t mean he can’t do something for himself along the way. He’s never done anything for himself, not really. His purpose in creation was to serve, be a good soldier and follow rules. Then after rebelling against heaven he chose his purpose, Sam and Dean. Now, while his motives still revolve around the Winchesters and saving the fate of the world and his fallen family, he is his own free agent, able to do things that please him and not just do things for others. It’s strangely terrifying and wonderful all at the same time.

He pulls into a gas station to fill-up his gas tank in Rock Springs, Wyoming. He wanders around the small convenience store for a few minutes, eyeing the shelves full of candy and snacks and the tall cold refrigerators stocked with various types of alcohol and soft drinks. He doesn’t buy anything, he has no need to. Castiel makes his way to the cashier placing two twenties on the counter in front of a young teenage boy with greasy slicked-back hair and a sleazy smile, chewing a piece of gum like a cow. His eyes are drawn to a stand with CDs, piled on top of one another on the right side of the counter. The CD on the top has big, bold yellow and red print, “Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers Greatest Hits.” The five men on the cover have long shaggy hair, similar to the style that was popular in the 1970’s. Castiel picks up the CD, flips it over and scans the names of the songs. It looks like a band Dean might listen to.

He places the CD next to the crumpled up bills. Digging into the pockets of his trench coat he adds another five dollar bill to the pile and gives the cashier a polite nod.

“Forty dollars of gas and the CD,” Castiel states, waiting patiently while the teen rings up the CD and punches in the numbers for the gas.

“There ya go,” The teen monotones, clearly bored with his job, handing Castiel the CD.

Castiel returns to his car, fills her tank with gas then hits the road. It’s early in the morning, there are still very few people out on the road. The sun is at his back, rising above the horizon and chasing him towards the coast. He doesn’t know where he is going, he’s just driving for the sake of feeling the tires spin beneath him and the breeze against his cheeks. He flicks open the CD resting on the passenger side seat and slides the disk into the player, turning the volume up obnoxiously loud.  A guitar starts in at an even beat and then the drums, Castiel tries to decide if he likes it or not. The man starts singing in a nasally voice about a girl who wants to get away from the monotony of her life and explore. Castiel smiles, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel.

He wonders what it would be like to drive across the country with Dean at his side. Eating at greasy diners where they serve the best hamburgers and beer in the world, singing loudly and off-tuned to classic rock songs together. Pulling off to the side of the road when they get tired of driving and falling asleep pressed up against one another. Driving all the way to the Pacific ocean, parking the impala along the edge of a sandy beach, getting out and running through the sand. Dean grabbing his waist, spinning him around and kissing him soundly on the lips, running his hands through Castiel’s short dark hair as their lips meld together, the ocean crashing nearby.

Castiel sighs regretfully, blinking back tears. Such thoughts are pointless, Dean would be opposed to such an idea even if they had the time to take a trip. The world is going to hell once again, Metatron’s reign strengthening with every passing day. Castiel knows that in the coming weeks and months he will be tested if not killed by the scribe of God. He may end up dying for the sake of Dean Winchester again and if that is his fate, he will accept it gladly as he always has.

The man singing over the stereo talks about unrequited love. Castiel knows how it feels. How love twists and tugs at one’s heart, ripping holes in the flesh, allowing blood to trickle out, weakening the body and mind. Many years ago when he first felt the twinge of affection for the elder Winchester deep within his grace, he attempted to push it away; snuff it out. However with every action Dean would make, Castiel found himself falling more and more for the man. At the time, since unable to understand emotion he didn’t know that what he was feeling was love. As humanity took over and his angelic walls softened, he began to truly _feel_. It was only then that he realized how completely and wholly in love he is with Dean Winchester.

The countryside whizzes by his window in a blur, the tall grasses swaying in the winds of the plains. The wind nips at the back of Castiel’s neck and Tom Petty sings. He’s heard it said that people usually have revelations when they are alone with their thoughts and in a way, that’s true.

Castiel has technically been alone since the beginning of his creation, but not _really_. He was always surrounded by his fellow brethren in heaven and on the battlefield. He’s had a few moments to himself, but never for longer than a few hours. Driving in his own car across the road with the only sound music or his own voice is, enlightening.

Castiel still has guilt for his past actions, swallowing all the souls, for causing all the angels to fall. This guilt will chase him until the end of his existence, but he’s learning to deal with it, learning to forgive himself. He has Dean and Sam’s forgiveness, he knows that and this fact alone gives him relief. The brothers are his family now. Sam is like his adopted brother and Dean... well Castiel doesn’t have a correct word to describe what Dean is to him. All Castiel knows is that if he and the brothers manage to make it out of this fight or war; whatever _this_ is, Castiel wants to return with them to the bunker, for good.

But that’s a long way off and who knows if he will even live to see tomorrow.

So for now, he drives.

 


End file.
